Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night. You love money. ‘What am I looking for?’ ‘A miniature. Find that boy. " "What villain?" cried Hogarth. " He stared at the agitated curtain; and slowly his chin sank until it touched his chest. ‘You do not know how I am like my mother. She was given a glimpse of his soul.
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